


Photographic Evidence

by Janieohio



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding Ceremonies, Childhood Friends, Christmas, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry, Engagement, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gift Exchange, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Photographs, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janieohio/pseuds/Janieohio
Summary: It's Christmas, and Harry and Draco are newly engaged. But even now, Harry likes to snoop. When he finds some old pictures in Draco's childhood bedroom, old vows of secrecy are endangered and some relationships will never be the same.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 82
Collections: Seven Shades of Drarry | Secret Santa Exchange 2020





	Photographic Evidence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adavison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavison/gifts).



> Adavison: You've been an amazing addition to our Seven Shades team, and I'm so glad I've gotten the chance to know you! You always have a way of making me smile. Thanks for your friendship and I hope you have an amazing holiday. Enjoy this little story I wrote just for you!

Harry slowly stirs, the morning light from the window cutting across his face. His mind takes in the satin sheets and duvet covering him, the overly fluffy bed, and Draco snoring lightly on his right. 

His brain wakes up a little more, and he smiles. It’s Christmas.

His first Christmas with Draco. His first Christmas with a fiancé. 

He looks at the clock. It’s only seven. He’s only been engaged for about ten hours, so the newness of it all is to be expected.

The odd feeling of waking up in Draco’s childhood bedroom won’t leave him, however, and adds to the strangeness of it all. The excitement of the engagement and the anxiety over Christmas morning with Narcissa is going to prevent any possibility of going back to sleep.

He creeps out of bed, careful not to wake Draco, and puts his feet on the cold floor of the overly large room. The elves have left him slippers and a dressing gown, which Harry would normally scoff at, but in the chill of the manor, they seem necessary. He slips them on and uses the loo, then steps back out to observe the room around him. 

It’s much too large for a small child, but then Draco had explained he hadn’t moved into this room until he’d left the nursery at around eight years old. Still, there are several shelves with once-favoured toys displayed in the corner and pictures frames of a young Draco and his friends lining the walls. 

Harry wanders to them, examining each one-by-one. Draco, Pansy, and Blaise appear to be the most common grouping in the images starting around age four, Pansy’s distinct nose and straight, dark hair identifying her as easily as Blaise’s dark and polished appearance. They are all immaculately dressed in each photograph, even when casual, and give little laughs and waves at the camera. Playing in the grass, attending a lesson, sitting in front of a pond; they span nearly a decade until they all stop, somewhere around Draco’s mid-teens.

Harry’s reminded how badly the war disrupted the lives of all of everyone, not just himself and his friends. He pushes the sudden melancholy aside and moves on.

Next to the framed photographs sits a large album on a bookshelf, and Harry can’t resist. Here are the more casual photographs, the slices of life that Harry was craving. They tell a story of a little boy who was loved and pampered and happy. Harry flips through baby pictures, a blond toddler playing in the mud and chasing peacocks, who cuddles with his mother and flies brooms and plays dress-up with his friends—

Wait. _What?_

Harry does a double-take and flips the page back, looking closer at the two children playing dress-up in the photograph. In the image, the children appear to be in the very room Harry is currently standing in, which means they’re likely eight or nine years old. The blond-haired child is clearly Draco. He’s dressed in formal robes and has a band of flowers on his head, which, given the ice-covered trees seen through the photo's window, seems out of place. 

The other child requires more study. Harry peers closer at the dark-haired boy with glasses, then nearly drops the book. He looks back at the photo, sure he’s imagined it, but there, on the child’s forehead is a lightning bolt. It looks nothing like Harry’s actual scar, but it’s a kid’s rendition similar to images Harry’s seen in children’s books about him. 

And that’s when Harry notices the child’s nose. Pansy. 

Pansy fucking Parkinson, Draco’s best friend, the girl who tried to turn him over to Voldemort, the woman who now lives to harass him, is dressed up as Harry Potter. Her robes match Draco’s, and she also has a band of flowers on her head. Harry can see several ribbons joining the flower bands and slams the book shut, trying to stifle the hysterical giggles that want to escape. 

_No fucking way._ There is no fucking way in hell that eight-year-old Pansy and Draco were pretending to be Harry and Draco with bonding boughs on their heads. Harry’s seen those flower bands before, however, at several of the magical weddings he has attended over the years since the war. They’re pretty distinctive.

A noise comes from the bed, and Harry looks over to see Draco stirring. He only has a moment to decide what he wants to do with this delicious information. He turns his back to the bed and quickly shrinks the album, sliding it into his pocket. 

Pansy and Ron are joining them for Christmas breakfast, and Harry has a surprise. He can’t wait.

* * *

“So, Potter, let me see the ring,” Pansy says as soon as she steps from the fireplace. “I can’t imagine what possessed Draco to finally tie himself to you, but I suppose if it makes him happy.” 

Ron ignores his wife and gives Harry a big hug, slapping him on the back. “Congratulations, mate.” He steps back and looks down at the ring, letting out a long whistle. “That’s a lot of emeralds.”

Draco’s arm wraps around Harry’s waist from behind, and Harry leans back into him, waiting for the appropriate moment.

“Yes, well,” Pansy continues, her voice bored and sarcastic, “I think Draco could do better, but I suppose if this is what he wants, then congratulations.”

And Harry decides it’s time. He doesn’t really think Pansy hates him—she married his best friend, for Merlin’s sake, and he’s marrying hers—but she does enjoy poking at him. It’s just his opportunity to return the favour. 

“Well,” Harry begins, his face sombre, “I did want to check with you both first,” Harry starts, gesturing to Pansy and Draco, “to make sure that this is even possible. I mean, you can’t bond with more than one person, right?”

Pansy narrows her eyes, trying to catch his meaning, but Draco just squeezes his waist. “Harry? What in Salazar’s name are you talking about?”

“I simply mean that since you seemed to have already had a bonding ceremony with Pansy when you were children, I’m not sure you’re free. Although I suppose since she was dressed up like _me_ at the time, perhaps we could make the case for her standing in as a proxy?”

Ron bursts out laughing and turns to his wife, his eyebrows raised in delight. “Did you really?”

Draco groans and drops his forehead to Harry’s shoulder, and Harry can feel him gently shaking in laughter. Pansy, however, is silent, her face gone red and her eyes wide and focused on Draco.

“You told him?” she shrieks. “I can’t believe you told him. We swore we’d never speak of that again!”

Draco begins backing up, pulling Harry with him as a shield from her wrath. “I did nothing of the sort. Do you honestly think I’d tell Harry about that? I swore you to secrecy just as completely. In fact, I’m the one who insisted on the vow.”

Pansy’s glares at Draco over Harry’s shoulder then flips to her husband and points her wand at him. “Shut it, now, Weasley.”

Ron keeps laughing, holding his hands up in supplication. “Sorry. I’m trying.”

She turns back to Harry. “If Draco didn’t tell you, then you’re making this up and have no proof.”

“Beyond your reaction being confirmation enough?” Harry says, laughing. Merlin, this was better than he’d imagined. He reaches into his pocket and withdraws the album, then tosses it to Ron. Ron catches it with ease and examines it, then uses his wand to cancel the shrinking charm. “It’s about twenty pages in on the bottom right,” he shouts over Pansy’s screams. She’s attempting to get to Ron, but he’s holding her back with an expertly cast Shield Charm. Sometimes it pays to be trained as an Auror.

Ron turns the pages and his laughter turns inaudible, tears pouring from his eyes. “Oh, Pans,” he finally says, catching his breath, “You make a lovely future-Gryffindor groom, darling.”

Harry’s so caught up watching his revenge unfold that he temporarily forgets Draco behind him. A smack to his arse brings his attention back to his fiance.

“Ow!” 

“How long have you been planning that? Your Slytherin side is showing.”

Harry laughs and turns to wrap his arms around Draco. “No, this is my Slytherin side.”

Draco groans. “Fucking snake jokes. Seriously. How long?”

“About two hours. How could you have never shown me those before? That album is amazing.”

“Because I knew you’d do something like this. Wanker.”

Harry ducks his head and snuggles into Draco’s neck. “Do you still have the bonding boughs?”

Draco shrugs. “They were my grandparents’. You wouldn’t want to use them, would you?”

“If you do. Gods, you were cute.”

_“Were?”_

“Now who’s the wanker fishing for compliments. Come on. Let’s get to breakfast before Pansy widows herself, and I’m down a best friend.”

Draco laughs and walks over to drag Pansy from the room, and Ron looks on, besotted. 

“You’re so whipped,” Harry mutters, pulling Ron along behind them. 

“No, but I will be.”

“Eww! It’s Christmas. How could you tell me such a thing?”

Ron smirks. “Happy Christmas, mate.”

**Author's Note:**

> This little drabble is the first time I've ever written a piece pairing Ron with anyone other than Hermione. I just couldn't resist, however, as the story unfolded. Besides, Harry needed backup. ;)


End file.
